


We're Off to See The Wizard

by room_on_broom



Series: Strive! Various WW one shots [8]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Old Fic, Staff Room, Staff room shenanigans, Wizard of Oz References, it's gently bullying HB time again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/room_on_broom/pseuds/room_on_broom
Summary: It's Halloween at Cackles but HB is less then impressed with the other teachers unorthodox treat to the girls.
Series: Strive! Various WW one shots [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/621703
Kudos: 4





	We're Off to See The Wizard

**Author's Note:**

> Old Fic. like very old. 2009 baby. I was tidying up and deleting some bits on my fanfiction account and I realised I never transfered this across. edited a bit spelling and reading wise. enjoy x

_“_ But Headmistress it’s ridiculous!” Miss Hardbroom cried, reading though the letter. “What about tradition, and the standards of the school?”

“My dear Constance, it’s not as though we’re abandoning the usual festivities altogether-”

“It jolly well sounds like it!” The potions teacher snapped, sounding anything but jolly. “You might as well send them all to the village in hope of collecting sweets and throwing eggs at windows!”

“All we’re doing is allowing the girls to…to….” Miss Cackle tried, stuck for the right word.

“Express themselves.” the other two teachers coursed. Miss Hardbroom shot them a look that sent the chanting teacher scurrying to the stationary cupboard. Miss Cackle ignored it and smiled at her deputy.

“Exactly, it’ll allow the girls to express them selves!”

“Really?” came the reply dipped in sarcasm and sprinkled with venom. Despite the words being nothing short of poison, the headmistress lapped them up.

“Indeed.” She beamed. “It’ll burn up some of that restless energy you keep telling me they have and use it creatively!”

“And you expect the parents will agree with this?” Miss Hardbroom bristled, almost slamming the offending rough draft of a permission letter on to the table.

“Well I’m sure there might be a few exceptions who won’t want there daughters involved.” Miss Cackle sniffed sipping her tea. “Like wise there’ll be a few students who won’t want to take part-”

“A sensible suggestion in my view-”

“But the few parents I’ve spoken too seem to agree with it.”

“You told them your idea, before you discussed it with your staff?” Miss Hardbroom shrilled, her voice pitched with annoyance, disappointment, and if Amelia Cackle didn’t know better, a little jealousy and hurt.

“I’m sorry Constance, but can assure you it wasn’t my idea, even if I wished it were” the head mistress sighed. “No, I’m afraid I was only responding to some letters from the families this morning. It was the first I’d heard about it.”

“Well whose silly idea was it then? It sounds like one of Mildred Hubble and her friend’s plans-”

“It was, though I think Sybil Griselda and Fenella were keen on it as well.”

“And you sent it to Helibore?!”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh. Then there’s still hope then,” Miss Hardbroom sighed in relief, “before the entire school cercomes to this madness?”

The relief was brief.

Miss Cackle, choosing to hide behind her mug of tea again, didn’t answer and glanced across the room. Her deputy followed her gaze. Davina withdrew her giggling head back into the cupboard with a snap, the door nearly taking off the tip of her nose, while Imogen looked away, suddenly very interested in the magazine that had sat unread on her lap for the last quarter of an hour, a guilty little smile twitching on the corners of her mouth.

“Oh no,” Constance begged, turning back to head teacher “please tell me they didn’t…”

“I would,” Amila shrugged, “only they did.”

“It’s your fault any way, Constance.”

Constance shot the PE teacher a glare that would have turned probably have turned her in to wicker basket if the witch so wanted but Imogen continued.

“The girls came to me with idea, during the detention I supervised that you put them in for slipping off to Mrs Cosies. Apparently before you’d appeared, some children in the village had been in there and were discussing costume ideas.”

“Of course they told everyone else about their plan-” the head mistress started.

“It’s spread like wild fire around the girls.” Muffled the cupboard.

“The girls started writing and calling family-” Miss Drill grinned.

“You must understand Constance,” Amelia interrupted having seen the well known signs of one of her deputy’s storms on the horizon that her college had missed. “The girls from magically homes rarely have had the chance to enjoy the excitement like the non-magical children get to every year. Some of them have never dressed up for Halloween.”

“But why should they? They are witches not normal children!” Constance snapped. “They have no need for ‘dressing up’. The school song even says ‘ghosts and ghouls-’”

“Run away in fright, I know.” Miss Cackle sighed, winching as the cupboard began to bleat out a rather horrid version of what she assumed to be the school anthem. Imogen covered her ears and waited for the cacophony to finish while Miss Hardbroom ignored it.

“Helibore will laugh in our faces,” She nearly yelled as the ’song’ died away. “He’ll complain to the council, he’ll have us shut down, he’ll be rubbing it in our faces that wizards are better then us, he‘ll -”

“Write back as soon as possible?”

“Yes he’ll-” Constance stopped. “He’s written back? Already?”

“Of course.” Imogen grinned. “It’s not often he gets a letter from Miss Bat.”

“And he liked it!” came a squeak from the cupboard, and Miss Cackle nodded in agreement.

“Apparently,” Miss Cackle smiled. “The young boys at Camelot’s got wind of it and convinced him we were already doing it. He promised it them before even Davina wrote to him.”

“Well tell him he can undo it then,” Miss Hardbroom sniffed. “Seeing as the promise was made under false pretences. Besides how did those boys find out-”

“Before you did?” the gym teacher teased, enjoyed herself immensely. “When we said the girls wrote to their families, they didn‘t just write home.”

“Witches have brothers and Wizards have sisters, Constance.” Davina smiled poking her head round the door.

“And as for calling it off,” Miss Cackle sighed. “Every things already been arranged.”

“And It wouldn’t be fair,” Imogen pointed out. “Not after the work some of the girls have started doing for their costumes.”

“Rather then doing their homework no doubt.” Miss Hardbroom snapped.

“Well they’ve only got two weeks to sort their outfits.” Imogen snapped back.

“I‘m aware of the date, Miss Drill,” Miss Hardbroom growled, before regained her composure. “What are they dressing as anyway?”

“Ah-ah-aah!” Batty Old Bat giggled. “Curiosity killed the cat, Constance!”

“We didn’t give them a theme,” Imogen said, sipping her orange juice. “Just told them to be really scary…”

“Fine.”

“Sorry?”

“What?”

“Come again?”

“I said, Fine.” The potions teacher barked, fixing them all with a superior ‘This will all end in tears’ look. “Let them have there silly bit of fun, but I want no part of it.”

“Oh.” Amelia murmured, partly relieved and partly disappointed. “But what about-”

“I will help chaperone the girls but that’s final.”

“But Chief Wizard said-”

“I don’t care tupence for what he says.”

“But we can dress up as well!” Davina giggled. “Wizard Helibore said it would help us get in to the spirit of things!”

For a moment it seemed once again she’d put her foot in it and said the wrong thing, as Constance looked as though she was about to spit flames, but then her eyes narrowed and a smirk appeared on her face witch made her look even more frightening.

“Are you ALL dressing up?”

“I was thinking about it,” Miss Cackle mused.

“’Corse.” Miss Drill nodded.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Miss Bat gushed.

“Very well then, if that is what you wish,” came the venomous retort. “But if I’m resided to this situation, I claim bagsey on being The Wicked Witch of the West. That is… unless you have any objections…”

Judging by both Imogen and Davina’s face’s, there were a few. But their protests were ignored as Constance vanished in to thin air. Miss Cackle lent back in her chair.

“Well I’d say that went rather well…”

Miss Bat merely slammed her cupboard door with a squeak of “Abominable woman!” as an answer. Miss Drill caught the headmistress eye, gestured at the offending piece of furniture.

“I haven’t the foggiest, Imogen. Just leave her a fruit salad in the usual place.” Miss Cackle smiled thoughtfully, as the PE teacher picked up the abandoned dessert and crossed the room. “You know, Constance has raised a valid point…”

“She raised several points,” Miss Drill replied, setting the little bowl down in front of cupboard and turned back to the headmistress. No sooner had she placed it on the floor, a lace gloved hand shot out and snatched it in to Narnia. “Which of them was the valid one?”

“Themes…I know we didn’t set the girls one, but I think it might be nice if we had one. What do think?”

“Well I’ll have to change my costume now anyway, I don‘t to argue with Constance.” Imogen sighed perching on the arm of a chair. A sob erupted from the cupboard at this. The two exchanged a look, and Miss Drill shrugged “I’m up for it. What did you have in mind?”

A fortnight later, O’hallows eve arrived, casting a transformation over the school.

The Girls giggled and swapped tips, admiring one another’s costumes while rolling their eyes at over’s, Helping their friends with their hair, making last minute adjustments to fabrics and jostled over the mirrors to apply make-up. But mean while in the staffroom, all was not well. So not much of a transformation in there then.

“But we can’t both go out wearing the same thing, we’ll look like idiots.” Miss Bat grumbled.

“Look we asked did you want to be Dorothy.” Miss Drill sighed. “And you said you’d rather be the good witch.”

“Yes but that was before you said Helibore’s going as a scarecrow!”

“So?”

“So! What about the pairings?”

Imogen sighed. “Davina you read too deep in to things-”

“Well I’m not being Glinda if Constance is being -”

“You choose to be the good witch!” Imogen argued, her wig nearly slipping over her eyes.

“Ladies ladies.” Miss Cackle interrupted, taking a pocket watch from her emerald waist coat. “We’ve got just over quarter of an hour before we set off. A decision needs to be made.” Davina made a pouty face toward her colleague but Imogen glared down her red trainers. It was childish but she thought she’d put quite a bit of effort into her costume. “Preferably sooner rather then later...”

But, Imogen thought to herself, admittedly Davina had the better costume. Complete with a stuffed terrier that the other two hoped hadn’t belonged to any one in the village.

“Fine I’ll be the north witch.” Miss Drill relented, pulling off the crappy nylon hairpiece as the chanting teacher hopped about with joy; her unruly bunches threatening to break loose from the blue ribbons. “I didn’t like the wig anyway. Just don’t put me in a frumpy ball grown; I’d like to be able to walk please…”

Miss Cackle pushed up the sleeves of her green tux, and mumbled a spell with her tongue between her teeth. Miss Drill felt a tingling as her hair began to lengthen, tumble and curl around her shoulders. Her basket became thin staff topped with glass as her trainers transformed in to perfectly heeled shoes. Miss Bat rushed to the cupboard and pulled out a full length mirror. Why there was a full length mirror in the cupboard, Imogen didn’t ask as she was a little busy admiring her reflection. The dungarees and pinafore had been replaced with a smart suit with matching skirt both trimmed with glitter, while a modest tiara nestled amongst her new angelic curls, its colour complimenting the outfit.

“Wow,” she grinned, as Miss Bat made noises of approval. “Well done, Miss Cackle.”

“Well, I am Oz,” the head mistress chuckled, adjusting her top hat as Miss Hardbroom swept in to the room, her loose hair billowing out behind her and slamming the door with great force. “oh! My, what wonderful make up Constance. Very striking.”

“Skin dye potion,” the deputy replied snappily, turning on the other two staff members, “This is all your fault!”

“What is?” they both cried incredulously, Miss Bat inching her way to the open cupboard door.

“You know what!” The potions teacher spat. “You two encouraged all these silly costumes and now look!”

“At what?” Imogen groaned.

“Their costumes! This fancy dress idea of yours!” came the retort.

“Constance, none of us have seen the costumes yet,” the headmistress sighed, “the girls have only told each other, remember?”

“Really?! Then take a look at this!” the potions teacher scoffed, striding across the room and ripping back the curtains.

Miss Cackle regarded the other teacher as though she was a snake on the edge of biting someone; the red lips on green skin not helping rid her mind of the image. But her curiosity got the better of her and, part not wanting to infuriate her college further and part wanting to find out what all the fuss about, she approached the window. Miss Drill and Miss Bat followed at her elbow. And the three of them peered into the yard where the girls assembling in dribs and drabs.

She spotted Ethel straight away, the only witch not in fancy dress, sat in the corner wearing her uniform. Fen and Gris appeared to have dressed up as each other, making final adjustments to one another’s dyed hair, while Sybil had made a rather good a tempt at the phantom of the opera, complete with a large rose.

Ruby seemed to have turned in to a ruby with her red sparkling devil costume. And even Drusilla Paddock had gotten into the swing of things. She appeared to have performed a rather excellent copy spell and created a double ganger of herself, even though her actual costume was a bit odd forming a two headed spider monster thing. There were fairies; a dragon, a few clowns. and a somewhat undistinguishable thing that might have been swamp monster or paint spell gone wrong.

But aside from those exceptions the rest was just a sea of black. Black buckles boots, long sweeping dresses, dark (mostly dyed) hair scraped into buns. All shapes and sizes of young witches, gathering, chattering and bickering, with more entering the yard as the school assembled. Each was unique with its own little variation but all in the same themed costume.

“Well?” Miss Hardbroom glared.

“Well.” Miss Drill swallowed, “we did tell them to come as the scariest thing they could think of.”

“I’d take it as a compliment Constance.” Miss Bat smiled leaning over the PE teachers’ shoulder, taking in the sight of seemingly a hundred mini Hardbrooms. “You do appear out of nowhere, striking fear into everyone.”

“But-” the deputy gaped, Uttley speechless for a change. Mildred Hubble jogged out of main entrance to join the group three short similarly black clad witches and one ruby devil, her bootlaces trailing from underneath her dress. Constance swallowed and tore her green face from the scene. “Headmistress…?”

“Constance, don’t make such a fuss. Davina‘s right, and your students have made quite an effort.” the Wizard of Oz said with a wink to Dorothy and the Good witch. “As the girls would put it, I think they look quite… _ **Wicked**_.”


End file.
